


death hurt like a bitch (being revived is worse)

by bluu5 (emiliao)



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Emotional Hurt, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), anger issues, but he's touch repulsed, c!tommy is an unreliable narrator, ranboo is just trying his best, there's a lot of bottled up and unresolved issues here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 15:07:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30023613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emiliao/pseuds/bluu5
Summary: Ever since Tommy woke up from the afterlife, he knew things would be so much worse for him. And honestly, people only saw him for what he really was - just a walking corpse with a mask of a living being. He's accepted that.And yet, his hatred burns.-----------In which Tommy has a lot of bottled-up anger and lashes out, Tubbo drowns in his guilt and Ranboo tries his best to fix the miscommunication between the two.
Relationships: Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 8
Kudos: 303





	death hurt like a bitch (being revived is worse)

The wood he was walking on didn't feel real.

Nothing really felt real ever since Tommy woke up from the afterlife with Dream's face smirking at him, manic green eyes illuminated by the lava looking down at his figure with that calculating glint. That same look everyone he met after getting out of prison gave him when he passed by. Like he was some sort of a freak of nature. A living ghost.

A mistake corrected in a bad way.

He walked down the prime path with his limbs that felt like they didn't really belong to him, each step being an order to his body rather than a negotiation. Everything hurt now. Every damn thing. The ache was dull as if some lazy torturer was standing right behind him at all times, only applying enough pressure to be an annoyance. It sat there, no matter the healing potions nor the number of golden apples he chugged.

The fresh air outside was supposed to be freeing. He dreamt of just a gulp of it every minute while being trapped in that cell, but as he sits by the nether portal looking over the server and breathing softly... it felt wrong. His lungs would stutter once in a while, like his body would forget he was a living being, and shut down momentarily before jerking awake. Breathing cool, spring air felt as if chugging tar, the kind that painted his insides black and marked everything _wrong_.

Tommy couldn't even trident through the skies anymore without that twisted fear of taking damage. He longed for that feeling of touching the clouds, going as high as he could to get even a glimpse of the stars that seemed to shine and blink just for him. Now when he even as much as touched a person or fell and took half-a-heart of damage, his entire body would shake. It was like there was a stake being hammered into his body, the strikes radiating pain in a way that shattered his brain. Each strike like a punch to his face, everywhere on him from a figure with a porcelain mask - or at least that's what it felt like. It was twisted, and cruel, and _wrong_.

He constantly felt wrong. _Dead._

A walking corpse with a mask of a living being.

Sighing softly Tommy stood up, holding back a whimper as his vision swam with black spots for a minute, before gathering his composure and walking back to his home.

Not the hotel, where Sam Nook stood warmly by his side, nor Tubbo's house in Snowchester that rang with laughter from two friends living their best lives.

He stopped by the garden of flowers and looked at his real home - the little dirt shack that survived countless wars and still felt familiar. Warm.

_He was so cold these days..._

Not daring to stop by the bench that was more bittersweet than a happy memory, he walked to open his door until a crunch made him pause. Looking down and lifting his foot he frowned.

There, stepped on and wilted, was a single allium rotting by his house. Out of all the roses and tulips surrounding him, the allium was the only one to lose it's vibrant purple, brown leaves cracking at the edges. Picking it up he winced internally, remembering burning an allium right in front of Ranboo after he gave it to him. Tommy was just so angry at that moment, any logic or empathy was thrown out of the window in favor of making _something_ feel right. Maybe if he screamed, hurt someone, been selfish enough like the old Tommy… Maybe he’d make it feel right again.

Being nice, not as self-centered as before, acknowledging and apologizing for his mistakes and seeking redemption is what got him fucked over to hell and back in the first place. He tried getting better, and all he got in return was the entire server breathing down his neck, a month trapped in a small box with a psychopath, a trip to the afterlife with two tyrants and a druggie, and an added bonus of getting betrayed by every single person alive.

Something bitter blossomed in his chest as Tommy crushed the allium, its dried petals turning to dust right before his eyes and getting carried away by the wind. He looked down at the flowers around his house in disgust, the statues making him feel more pitied than ‘remembered’.

He should be happy. People _cared_ enough to grieve for him, but as he looked at the sloppy, rushed memorials and carelessly planted flowers, a conversation with Wilbur repeated in his head over and over again.

_“No one cared this much when I died. I didn’t even get a grave y’know, you should be happy, Tommy.”_

_“...No one cared this much when I was alive, Wilbur.”_

No one checked up on him after Dream’s imprisonment, when he’d sit by L’manburg’s crater for hours, plucking at Wilbur’s old guitar strings in melancholy.

No one asked if he was doing okay when he’d work himself to the bone gathering supplies for the hotel.

No one came to help him in the prison.

_No one._

Tommy hates himself so much for admitting it, but Dream was right. Not one person in this hellhole actually gives a shit about him. They didn’t even see him as an actual person; To Dream, he’s singled out as just another puppet. To Techno, he’s Theseus. The ignorant hero who will die a hero’s death, who’s expected to be impulsive, stubborn and aggressive. To Niki and Jack, he’s that arrogant, thorn-in-the-side kid who causes trouble and never gets knocked down for anyone. Just a kid by the name of TommyInnit who _never_ seems to die. To everyone, he’s a scapegoat when things turn south, because burned houses and stolen valuables always scream ‘Tommy’s fault’.

Dream’s plaything. Theseus. The hero. The loud, arrogant kid who never seems to die. Someone who came back from the dead. Just some _thing,_ ready to be dissected in exchange for finding the key to immortality.

When was the last time anyone saw him as just… ‘Tommy’?

Scowling at himself Tommy bent down with a wince and ripped a red tulip out of the ground. Then a white one. Then another white one. He continued over and over again, hands trembling more and more with each ripped and discarded flower. The pricks from the roses he grabbed without care sent waves of burning agony across his body, and yet he kept blindly ripping them out. For the first time in months his eyes blazed like a wildfire. It was twisted and distorted, but it was something strong. _He was strong._ It burned so bad, like a fire that laced his veins and crept up his spine. His body was sore, hands dirty and bleeding, breathing labored, but all he could feel was desire; desire to hate.

All that rage that was building up over the years, all those times he was reduced to a mere stereotype, cut and shaped to be the person _they_ wanted him to be, _to be a hero_ , all those times he was treated like a kid only when it was convenient… there was a limit to how much shit a 16 year old can take, and this seemed to be the final breaking point. He was _so fucking_ **_tired._ **

Tommy stood by his house with a heaving chest, a mess of destroyed flowers ripped and tossed around carelessly, and felt nothing but pride.

_“That’s the Tommy I know :)”_

He smiled. 

TommyInnit used to be selfish.

He was an arrogant, self-centered, reckless kid without a care for others. He stole, he griefed, he destroyed. He got involved in wars and followed his leader no matter what. He was loud and he never got hurt.

TommyInnit _did not_ apologize. He _did not_ borrow things and leave a note to return the favor, later putting a pile of diamonds as compensation. He _is not_ concerned for others' safety nor is he willing to help those in need if it didn’t serve a purpose for him.

If it took becoming selfish again just so people around him weren’t repulsed and talked to him normally again, he would do it. Just like old times.

TommyInnit is selfish.

“...Tommy?”

His head snapped at the sound, panic gripping his heart until he saw the two figures standing next to each other on the prime path. Oh...

“What” Tommy sighed.

Tubbo looked lost for a moment, looking up at Ranboo for help, only to be met by the hybrid staring at destroyed flowers with an unreadable expression. It was silent for a while, the pair trying to come up with words to say while Tommy stood idly, frustration setting fire to his gut more and more with each passing second.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer” he gritted out.

Tubbo took a step forward, “So you aren’t a… hallucination, right?”

Tommy remained silent, narrowed eyes trained on ~~his best friend~~ Ranboo’s husband as the latter continued to stare at him in… was it disbelief? Fear? Disappointment?

“You’re hurt…” Ranboo eventually muttered, gaze looking up from the destruction to the shivering kid whose blood on his palms dripped onto the torn apart white tulips below, painting them red.

Tommy huffed, looking away and ready to go into his house and finally get some sleep until he registered Tubbo taking more steps towards him.

“Get off my property and do whatever the fuck married people do, I wanna get some shut-eye” Tommy’s hand was hovering over his door handle, stormy-grey eyes glaring at the pair venomously.

“Can we talk?”

“What’s there to talk about?” Tubbo flinched at his harsh tone, yet his eyes remained determined.

“Tommy, you’re doing this thing again where you avoid the obvious problem and _don’t listen to me.”_

The blonde let out a bitter laugh “I can read social cues, dipshit. I know when there’s no problem to solve, and _this_ ” he emphasized his point with wild hand gestures “is one of those moments.”

Tubbo sighed out of frustration. “You’re misinterpreting the situation again. Look, can we just-”

“Take your ‘husband’ and get the fuck off my property,” Tommy said again, tone dangerously low “I got the message. While I was going through _literal hell_ , you found a new ‘boy toy’ and decided I wasn’t worth the trouble. I can tell when I’m being replaced, _Tubbo_.”

“Ender’s sake, Tommy, no one’s replacing you!” Tubbo almost screamed. They were standing so close now, Tommy almost forgot the shivers that racked his body as soon as someone stepped into his personal space. “I thought you were dead!! For the second time, I had to grieve for my best friend while having no one by my side. _I had nobody!_ This time, Ranboo was there. He helped me when I thought I’d literally drown in my own grief. He took care of me, understood and _listened_. _He was there, okay?!_ ”

Tommy blinked as Tubbo breathed heavily, his eyes watering from all the shouting. They stood there, complete opposites of their normal selves; Tubbo overly emotional and crying, while Tommy had that detached, empty look in his eyes.

It didn't last long. The anger came soon enough.

“You wouldn’t have even needed to grieve if _someone_ got me out of that prison. So where the fuck were you when I screamed my lungs out for help.”

Tubbo sniffled and sighed. “Tommy, look-”

“ **_NO!_ ** YOU _KNEW_ HOW BAD DREAM WAS TO ME, SO WHERE THE FUCK WAS **_ANYONE_ ** _WHEN I NEEDED THEM_ ?!” There it was again, that familiar rage curling around Tommy’s throat and burning his insides like acid. He has yet to cry ( _didn’t even remember the last time he did_ ), but his throat clogged and his hands shook.

“If it was _you_ who was trapped in that prison, I wouldn’t even sleep until you were out of there! If it was _you_ who lost your last life, I would’ve traveled to hell and back for a chance to see you alive again! _Why the fuck_ am I always the one who cares too much, while you pretend to treasure our friendship until it’s inconvenient for you?!” He wanted to cry so bad, but tears refused to roll down his cheeks. He always cried during these type of situations, but now… it finally hit just how defective his resurrected body really was “I wouldn’t even know what to do with myself if I lost you, while you spend two days crying _at most_ , then decide ‘fuck it’, find a replacement for me, build a _stupid_ inn next to _my_ hotel, get married and **_spit on my fucking grave!!_ **”

“I- You-... You know I would never-”

“ ** _Just admit you never fucking cared and make it easier for the both of us!!_ **”

In his anger-induced state, Tommy was blind to Tubbo, to the delicate way his soul would get crushed more and more with each venomous word. He didn’t notice how the boy shrunk into himself, how his eyes were clouded with guilt and sadness, how all the fight he had drained from him the moment Tommy’s eyes started glinting like wildfire. They were both so tired and blind to each other’s good hearts, instead of building back burned bridges they surrounded themselves in barricades. 

Soon enough, Ranboo was by Tubbo’s side, gripping his hand in what he hoped was comfort. The goat hybrid melted by his partner’s side, sobs racking his body violently, all while Tommy fumed in his spot even more.

“Tommy, I know you didn’t deserve what you’ve gone through, but none of us knew you were trapped there… I- Tubbo would’ve broken that prison down to the ground if he knew you were suffering there” Ranboo’s voice was gentle, trying to diffuse the situation before any more damage was done. Silence ensued, only interrupted by Tubbo’s occasional hiccups and Tommy’s harsh breathing. Then…

“I wish I was a fucking ghost so I could kill every single one of you without repercussions.” Tommy’s voice was ice cold. “ **Fuck. You.** ”

None of the two were looking into his eyes to see a familiar green flicker in his irises for a moment.

Ranboo sighed “You’re lashing out because you’re hurt. Please just-...” he took a breath and against his body’s wishes held eye contact with the blonde “Please understand.”

The cold stare was enough for the enderman hybrid to eventually break their staring contest and look down at Tubbo. Tommy stood still, the anger slowly dripping out like the blood off his hands, leaving him with that numb, familiar feeling. He was so tired…

“I fucking hate you, Ranboo.”

“That’s okay.”

Tommy closed his eyes and sighed. “You didn’t have the backbone to refuse my offer to burn down George’s house, yet now you argue for the sake of Tubbo. You’re insanely nice to me, even when I push people away with my obnoxiousness” He muttered “...I just don’t fucking get you.”

Ranboo rubbed circles on Tubbo’s hand with a sad smile, the latter buried into his side just listening to the two, too tired to try and argue again.

“You’re married to my best friend, you’re on good terms with Techno and Phil… fucking hell, people treat you more like a human being than me, no matter how much I try and be better” Tommy felt his voice waver. “I just- I don’t get-”

“Tommy…”

The blonde opened his eyes, looking down at the red tulips by his feet.

“You’re…”

“You’re crying.”

Tommy tried to be angry, tried to be numb, tried to smile, tried to shout, but instead, hot tears slipped down his cheeks. He didn’t make a sound, not one, but his lower lip began to tremble slightly as even more tears slid out. Ranboo waited patiently until Tommy finally took a deep breath, and tried rubbing his face free of tears. It didn’t work as even more poured down his dirty, bandaged face.

“I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong” Tommy whispered eventually, his voice cracking and breaking. Ranboo wanted to put a hand on his shoulder in comfort, to finally melt in the embrace of three of them. His heart was aching at the sight of the kid silently crying his soul out ( _He looked so young…),_ but as soon as his hand even tried getting close to Tommy, he flinched, taking a small step back with fearful eyes.

“Please don’t… I- it hurts when people… you know…”

Ranboo hummed, smiling softly in understanding “Look. I get you’re frustrated, Tommy. It’s okay to be angry” He murmured. “But trust me, nothing changed between you and Tubbo. He’s still your best friend, who may not show it, but cares about you more than you realize.”

Tommy takes a shaky breath and wipes his tears again before he looks up at the pair. His eyes hone in on the enderman hybrid’s, and this time Ranboo doesn’t dare to look away. The silent ‘I promise’ at the end of his sentence doesn’t seem to have gone unnoticed by the blonde.

“I-... okay” he whispers. “Yeah I-... I believe you. Can Tubbo um… say it?” Tommy sounds like a kid, he finally sounds like he’s a kid instead of a soldier who's just been brought back from the dead. “Just once… I’m still angry, but can-... I dunno, that’s… that’s dumb, I’m sor-”

“Say what, Tommy?” The brunette finally perks up, his cheeks flushed with dried tears.

“That” he goes silent for a moment “...that you care. You don’t have to, you don’t-”

“I’ve always cared for you, Toms” the use of the old nickname Wilbur used to call him makes Tommy flinch internally, but he still listens. “I care for you more than you realize, I promise. I’m sorry things didn’t… work out the best, but trust me this once” Tubbo’s smile was as bright as the sun, even if his eyes betrayed the guilt he carried with those words

“I care.”

They stand in silence for what seems like hours, Tommy wishing he could actually hug his… friend? Everything was still muddled, conflicting thoughts clashing with each other, but the need for _any_ kind of touch burned him nonetheless. It sucked; being this touch-starved and touch-repulsed at the same time.

Eventually, Ranboo breathes out “We should probably get back to Michael… Do you-” He pauses as he looks around the crushed flowers scattered all around the place “You wanna stay in Snowchester with us for a bit?”

Tommy flexed his aching palm, the bleeding finally being replaced by the painful stings of new wounds. He smiled sadly “Sorry… I’d rather… not” Ender, his voice was hoarse.

While Tubbo looked down, biting down on his lower lip, Ranboo sighed softly and rummaged through his inventory. Soon enough, he extended his hand as Tommy looked up.

A single allium was presented to him while Ranboo had that warm, welcoming smile.

“Here. Have a flower” he chuckles “Since you burnt the last one”

With shaking hands, Tommy cradles the small allium, it’s vibrant purple standing out in his pale, scarred hands. If he could cry more, he’d be bawling his eyes out at the gentle interaction, but there are no more tears to pour. He hopes his smile carried enough gratitude for the other two to pick up.

As the pair walks away with a wave, Tommy brings the flower closer to himself. If he looked close enough, he could probably see the dried petals of the old allium being stepped on and crushed as he opened the door to his home and walked in.

It felt wrong to hold such a lively thing in his cold, dead hands, but as he huddled closer to himself in the bed later, a smile couldn’t help but tug at his lips.

Maybe, little by little, he could return to normal.

Maybe one day he won’t feel like an impostor walking amongst the living. Maybe one day he’ll be able to let out his frustrations and make them all see just how broken up he really was. Maybe one day, he'll feel like the old him again.

He chuckles.

He really was so _selfish_.


End file.
